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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453946">The Great Storm Is Over</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine'>eternaleponine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Where There Is A Flame [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2020 US Presidential Election, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Elections, F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:41:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,757</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years ago, Clarke and Lexa watched in horror as the election results came in, leaving them - and the country - shaken and fearing for the future.  Now they're a family of three, and the stakes are higher than ever.  Can they be the change they want to see the world?  Will their votes be enough?  And how will they explain to their daughter if it all goes wrong... again?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin/Lexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Where There Is A Flame [36]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/546589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Great Storm Is Over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qvert/gifts">Qvert</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story takes place between <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/12582936">Here Comes The General</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805335">Giving Thanks</a>, because that's where the 2020 election would fall in the timeline.  As there was no way I could have predicted a global pandemic (or anything else in this hellscape of a year) and I'm not going to try to retcon one in, they don't have to wait an agonizing four days for a result.  </p>
<p>The title of this story comes from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W51h4zZLG2Q">this song</a>.</p>
<p>I am on hiatus for the month of November, but I didn't think this moment could go uncelebrated.  Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Don't forget to vote," Lexa said as Clarke slipped her arms into her coat.  </p>
<p>Clarke snorted.  "As if I could."  She came over and planted a kiss on Madi's head, and then one on Lexa's lips, just the barest brush because their daughter was watching as she munched on her cereal, and Clarke couldn't be late for class.  "I'll see you two later," she said.  "Don't have too much fun without me!"  She smiled, but Lexa could see how forced it was, how brittle around the edges.  </p>
<p>"We will!" Madi said cheerfully, and Clarke's smile warmed into something more real.  She reached out to ruffle Madi's hair, but Madi ducked away, giggling.  </p>
<p>"Love you," Clarke called, grabbing her keys and heading out the door.</p>
<p>Lexa leaned on the counter across from Madi.  "It's just you and me, kid," she said.  "What do you think we should do today?"</p>
<p>"Save democracy!" Madi said, waving her spoon and splashing milk across the surface.  "Oops."  She grabbed a napkin and quickly wiped it up.  </p>
<p>Lexa laughed, just a soft burst of sound, but it eased a tiny bit of the tension in her chest.  She felt like she'd been swallowing down panic for the last several months – or maybe the last several years – but there was finally an end in sight... maybe.  </p>
<p>If enough people got out to the polls.  If enough people refused to be deterred by the roadblocks placed in their way as the Republicans, knowing they couldn't win a fair election, did everything in their seemingly unlimited power to lie, cheat, and steal the election.  If enough people cared.  </p>
<p>God, people <i>had</i> to care.  </p>
<p>"Are you almost done?" Lexa asked.  </p>
<p>"Almost," Madi said, slurping up the last of her Cheerios and gulping down her juice.  "Okay, now I'm done!"  </p>
<p>"Do you want to get dressed first, or do you want me to do your hair first?"  Because even though Madi had showered the night before, and even though Lexa had braided her hair tight afterward, it had still somehow turned itself into a fuzzy, rumpled mess overnight.  Madi gigglingly claimed there were snarl monsters that lived in her pillow.  Lexa was starting to believe her.  </p>
<p>"Dressed first," Madi said.  "Should I dress up?"</p>
<p>"You can wear anything you want to, Bug," Lexa said, holding out a hand to steady her as she slid down off the stool, even though it wasn't really necessary anymore.  Madi took it as an invitation to tuck herself under her arm, wrapping her arms around Lexa, and Lexa returned the embrace, letting herself be bolstered by her daughter's easy affection.  </p>
<p>"Even my Halloween costume?" Madi asked, grinning.  </p>
<p>"If you really want to," Lexa said.  "But you might be a little chilly."  </p>
<p>Madi considered.  "Probably," she decided.  "I'll figure something out!"  She bounded off to her room, emerging a little later in leggings and her favorite t-shirt, which had two rainbow hearts and 'I Love My Moms' on it.  She was struggling to get her arms into a purple plaid flannel, and Lexa finally took pity on her and held onto one of the sleeves to give Madi a clear path.  </p>
<p>"Thanks," Madi said, plunking herself down in front of Lexa's usual place on the couch.  Lexa grabbed the hairbrush still there from the night before and unwound last night's braids.  Madi's hair was still damp underneath, and thankfully it wasn't as tangled as it looked.  </p>
<p>"Braids again, or something else?" Lexa asked.  </p>
<p>Madi considered, then tipped her head back, grinning again.  "Can you give me a crown like the Statue of Liberty?" she asked.</p>
<p>Lexa considered, trying to remember if and where she had bobby pins.  "Hold on," she said, going to the bathroom and rifling through the drawers until she found what she was looking for.  She came back and sat down, rattling the little case.  "Affirmative," she said, and got to work.</p>
<p>When she finished Madi darted off to check herself out in the mirror, flashing Lexa a double thumbs-up when she re-emerged.  She retrieved her purple Converse from the not-as-orderly-as-Lexa-might-have-liked pile by the door and slipped her feet in, her tongue poking out as she concentrated on feeding the laces through the eyelets they had come out of and tying them into double-knots.  </p>
<p>"Did you brush your teeth?" Lexa asked.</p>
<p>Madi looked up, her face scrunching.  "Oh.  Um..."</p>
<p>"Go brush your teeth," Lexa said.  </p>
<p>Madi looked at her feet.  "I already have my shoes on," she said.  </p>
<p>"It's okay," Lexa said.  "Just this once."</p>
<p>Madi tiptoed to the bathroom to brush her teeth while Lexa finished getting ready.  When they went downstairs, Lexa considered just walking to their polling place, which would have been an easy trek for her, but maybe not for a nine-year-old only a year out from a traumatic brain injury, especially not knowing how long they might be in line.  So she packed Madi into the car, making sure she was buckled even though Madi rolled her eyes and gave her a Look that clearly said, 'I'm not a <i>baby</i>.'  </p>
<p>When they arrived, they line stretched out the door and halfway around the building.  Lexa had considered coming earlier, being there when the polls opened, but she'd worried – and hoped – that the line would be long.  Because the more people that turned out the better... at least in theory.  She'd decided it wasn't worth risking not being home in time Clarke – who couldn't just leave Madi alone – to get to class.  </p>
<p>Her professors had given them the day off, wanting to make sure no one had any excuse to not vote, and Lexa had been grateful.  With so many schools used as polling places, Madi had the day off, and no class meant not needing to find someone to watch her, or bringing her along (although she seemed to enjoy it the last time).  </p>
<p>From the looks of things, her concerns had been valid, and she couldn't help the twinge of hope that shot through her as she surveyed the faces of those ahead of her.  Faces that were young and old, Black and white and every shade between, male and female in roughly equal proportion.  There were even a few other kids (and a couple of strollers) waiting more-or-less patiently at their parents' sides.</p>
<p>They added themselves to the end of the line, and Lexa handed Madi her phone to play games on so she didn't get too antsy.  They crept forward at a fairly steady pace, and finally it was their turn.  Lexa gave her name and showed her ID, and the poll worker crossed her name off the list and handed her a ballot.  </p>
<p>"Can I see?" Madi asked, keeping her voice low.  She seemed to sense that this was a serious place, like the adult section of the library, and she had to be on her best behavior.  </p>
<p>Lexa led her to one of the little carrels and showed her the ballot, and let her watch as she filled in the bubbles.  Madi danced from foot to foot, and Lexa knew she was brimming with questions, but she held them in.  When she was done, they went to the big dropbox and fed the ballot into the slot, and Lexa was handed an 'I Voted' sticker by another poll worker, which she proudly stuck to her chest.  </p>
<p>"Can I have a sticker?" Madi asked, slipping her hand into Lexa's.  </p>
<p>"In ten years when you vote," Lexa said.  Probably if they'd asked, the worker would have given Madi a sticker, but somehow it didn't feel right to Lexa.  Madi hadn't voted, after all (although Lexa would have trusted her to make better choices than many adults).  </p>
<p>Madi stuck out her lip but didn't complain.  As they stepped back out into the sunshine, blinking at the sudden brightness, she bounced along at Lexa's side.  "You know what they should make?" she said as she climbed into the car.  "They should make stickers that say 'Future Voter' for kids who come with their parents!  Because we waited in the looooooong line too!"</p>
<p>Lexa looked at her in the rearview mirror.  "You know what?  That's a great idea.  When we get home, we can write a letter and suggest it, and figure out where the best place to send it is.  How about that?"</p>
<p>"Yeah!" Madi said, beaming because Lexa hadn't just dismissed the idea as silly like a lot of adults might have, or smiled indulgently and said it was a good idea and then did nothing with it.  But the world needed passionate people who were willing to work for change, and as far as Lexa was concerned, a campaign to get the city, or state, or whoever was responsible for these things, to print a few extra stickers for the next election was a great place to start.</p>
<hr/>
<p>By the time Clarke got home after a day of classes and clinic hours, and an hour-long wait in the voting line, Lexa had given in and ordered pizza for dinner.  She didn't have the mental energy to cook, and Madi had enthusiastically agreed to the plan.  (Not that Lexa had expected anything less.)  They could have gone over to Anya's – she'd been stress-baking and cooking all day – to eat and watch the results start to come in, but after a brief text exchange with Clarke, they'd decided that by the time the polls closed it would already be close to Madi's bedtime, and it wasn't worth dealing with Madi-the-Grouch in the morning.  </p>
<p>"You are a goddess among women," Clarke said, inhaling the aroma of bread and sauce and cheese, and then burying her face the side of Lexa's neck and breathing in the scent of her skin.  Lexa leaned back into her, lacing her fingers through Clarke's where they wrapped around her middle and squeezing.  </p>
<p>"Mom, look!" Madi said, barreling in and shattering the moment.  "Yay, pizza!"  </p>
<p>"What am I looking at?" Clarke asked, letting go of Lexa to retrieve plates from the cabinet.  </p>
<p>"I wrote a letter!"  Madi waved it at her, and Lexa took the plates so Clarke could read the draft Madi had written, mostly on her own (she'd needed a little help with some of the spelling).  </p>
<p>"Wow!" Clarke said.  "This is awesome!  Are you going to send it to the Board of Elections?"</p>
<p>"If that's the right place to send it!" Madi said.  "Mama is researching."</p>
<p>"That's probably a good place to start," Lexa said.  "Maybe send a copy to the town registrar of voters."  She put a slice of pizza on a plate and slid it across the counter, and Madi clambered up onto a stool and dove in.  </p>
<p>"She came up with that idea all on her own?" Clarke asked in an undertone as they filled their own plates.</p>
<p>"She came up with the idea of the stickers," Lexa said.  "I suggested she write a letter."</p>
<p>Clarke nodded.  "Maybe she'll be the first female president of the United States," she said.  </p>
<p>Lexa glanced at Madi and sighed.  "I hope we don't have to wait that long."  </p>
<p>"Yeah..."  Clarke sighed and wrapped her arm around Lexa's waist again.  "Me either."</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Why are some states red and other states blue?" Madi asked, wedging herself between Lexa and Clarke on the couch.  It was already past her bedtime, but neither of them had been able to tear themselves away long enough to walk her through her nighttime routine.  </p>
<p>"Blue is for Democrats.  Red is for Republicans," Clarke said.</p>
<p>"Oh."  Madi's forehead furrowed.  "What's the difference?"</p>
<p>Lexa was a little surprised she hadn't been taught the difference in social studies recently; it seemed like something teachers would want to discuss.  But maybe given the current social and political climate, and how fraught things were, they didn't want to risk being seen as being partisan and pushing an agenda, so they steered clear.</p>
<p>"Democrats care about people," Lexa said.  "Republicans don't."</p>
<p>"Lexa..." Clarke said, raising her eyebrows.</p>
<p>"What?  You want me to sugarcoat it for her?  It's the truth and we all know it."</p>
<p>Madi looked back and forth between them, hating when they fought.  Not that they were fighting.  They weren't even really disagreeing.  When neither of them said anything, she asked, "So we're Democrats?"</p>
<p>Lexa put an arm around her and squeezed.  "Yes, Bug.  We are definitely Democrats."  </p>
<p>"Okay," Madi said, snuggling into them both.  They all watched the map in silence, as states whose outcome had been a more-or-less foregone conclusion lit up.  Madi bit her lip as the south and parts of the midwest began to turn.  "It looks like the country is bleeding," she said, echoing Lexa's thoughts from four years ago... and now.  </p>
<p>"It's early yet," Clarke said, but Lexa could hear the tension in her voice.  "Some people are still voting."  </p>
<p>"I think it's time for bed," Lexa said.  "Come on, sweet girl."  She picked Madi up, even though she was really too big, and carried her to her room.  She tucked her in and settled beside her, picking up the book they'd been reading chapter by chapter each night.  </p>
<p>"Mama?" Madi asked, when Lexa tucked the bookmark back in and set it aside again.  </p>
<p>"What, Bug?"</p>
<p>"The Republicans aren't going to win, are they?"  </p>
<p>"We don't know yet," Lexa said, "but I hope not."  </p>
<p>Madi hugged Sully tight to her chest.  "Me too."</p>
<p>Clarke came in and hugged and kissed Madi good night, and they left the door open a crack when they left, just in case.  </p>
<p>Back on the couch, staring at the screen as it told them an all-too-familiar story, there were no words.</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Come on, love," Clarke said, her chin digging into Lexa's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around her.  "We should try to sleep."</p>
<p>"I can't," Lexa said.  "I can't sleep.  We don't know yet—"</p>
<p>"And I don't think we're going to," Clarke said.  "Trust me, I want this to be over as badly as you do.  But I don't think it's going to happen tonight.  Polls just closed on the west coast a few hours ago, and it's going to take time to count the votes."  </p>
<p>Lexa knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier, and she couldn't tear her eyes from the screen, from numbers and tallies and projections and states – too many states – turning red red red.  </p>
<p>"Anyway," Clarke said, "whatever happens, life goes on.  It has to.  Come morning you'll still be a mom.  Madi will still need you.  You'll still be a wife - <i>my</i> wife – and <i>I'll</i> need you.  You'll still need to go to class and learn as much as you can, because this country needs you.  So please... come to bed."</p>
<p>Lexa sighed, turning to rest her forehead against Clarke's temple.  She gave a slight nod, and Clarke clicked off the TV and offered Lexa her hands.  Lexa allowed herself to be pulled up, then tugged Clarke toward her, smothering her in a crushing embrace.  </p>
<p>"I know," Clarke whispered.  "I know."</p>
<hr/>
<p>An hour passed, and then another.  They didn't sleep.  </p>
<p>"I can't do it," Lexa whispered into the darkness.  "I can't take another four years.  I can't."  </p>
<p>She'd tried not to get her hopes up this time.  There was no, 'Hope for the best but prepare for the worst.'  She'd been trying for days – weeks – to resign herself to the same dark fate as 2016.  But in the face of it, her strength and resolve fled, and despair rose up in its place and threatened to drag her down.</p>
<p>"You can," Clarke told her.  "You can, and you will.  You have to."</p>
<p>Lexa could feel her shaking, a fine all over tremble, and she realized – she'd known, but it finally sank in – that she wasn't the only one who was scared.  </p>
<p>She rolled over and put her arms around Clarke, fitting their bodies together like puzzle pieces, the only thing that felt right in a world that they both feared was going terribly wrong... again.</p>
<hr/>
<p>In the morning, they still didn't have an answer.  Some states were still counting.  Critical states.  States that would make or break the election... and the country.  The margins were razor thin, and so was Lexa's grip on her emotions as she tried to act like everything was normal.  </p>
<p>"Did we win?" Madi asked.  </p>
<p>"We don't know yet," Clarke said.  </p>
<p>Madi frowned.  "Why don't we know?  It should be easy!"</p>
<p>"Counting votes takes time," Lexa said, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears.  Because Madi was right.  It <i>should</i> be easy.  Given a choice between moving forward into a better future or dragging the country back into a past that hadn't been great for anyone but men like Trump, it should have been a no-brainer.</p>
<p>But that was the problem.  The country was plagued by people who felt themselves hard done by but who couldn't wrap their minds around the fact that it was the very people they supported who had put them in that position.  Victims of the Dunning-Kruger effect, too stupid to know how stupid they were.  </p>
<p>And then there were the racists, the misogynists, the homophobes and transphobes, the xenophobes, Islamophobes, anti-Semites... the list went on and on and on, and Trump and his ilk emboldened them, made them feel justified and vindicated and—</p>
<p>Lexa sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.  She couldn't think about it.  If she was going to have any chance of making it through the day, she couldn't think about it.  </p>
<p>She couldn't <i>stop</i> thinking about it.  </p>
<p>"Have a good day," she said, hugging Madi a little tighter than usual as Clarke prepared to take her to school.  </p>
<p>Madi leaned into her, maybe sensing she needed the comfort, or maybe needing the reassurance herself.  It was hard to know for sure how much she understood about what was going on and what was at stake.  "You too, Mama," she said.  "I love you."</p>
<p>Lexa kissed her forehead.  "Love you too, Bug."  </p>
<p>"I'll see you later," Clarke said.  "Text me if you need anything."</p>
<p>"I will," Lexa said.  "You too."  She stole a quick kiss but didn't let herself linger, afraid that if she did she might fall apart. Instead she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and forced herself to march out the door to face whatever was to come.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The news came just before noon: Biden had won.  Trump had been defeated.  Lexa's classroom exploded with cheers... save for a few who stayed in their seats, very carefully not making eye contact with anyone.  Lexa vowed to remember each and every one of their faces, because agreeing to disagree didn't apply when one was talking about whether or not your fellow humans were entitled to basic human rights, regardless of the color of their skin, who they loved, or how they worshipped.  </p>
<p>Her phone exploded a moment later, the Ohana group chat flooded with emojis of confetti and balloons and champagne flutes and anything else celebratory anyone could find.  She texted Clarke.</p>
<p><b>Lexa:</b> We're celebrating tonight.</p>
<p><b>Clarke:</b> Hell yeah we are!  🎉🍾🥂🤗😘</p>
<p>Lexa laughed, and didn't care who heard – but no one was paying any attention.  They were all talking or had their faces in their own phones.  Her professor didn't even attempt to stop them, and after a few minutes said, "You know what?  We'll catch up.  Class dismissed!"</p>
<p>He clearly wasn't the only one who'd made the same call, because the hallways were flooded with students heading out into the November sunshine, laughing and dancing to music that blasted out of tinny phone speakers... or to music no one else could hear, but who cared?  </p>
<p>Lexa headed for the parking lot, getting into her car and driving over to Clarke's campus.  People were honking their horns as they drove, for no reason other than pure elation and relief.  She didn't join them, but she wasn't mad about it, either.  </p>
<p><b>Lexa:</b> I'm here.</p>
<p><b>Clarke:</b> My professor just canceled class.  Which lot?</p>
<p>Lexa gave her the number, and then got out of her car, heading for the building where most of Clarke's classes were held, speeding to a jog when she saw her approaching.  They crashed into each other, kissing and clinging and laughing and crying all at once.  </p>
<p>"We did it," Clarke said.  "We did it!  It's real!"  </p>
<p>Lexa nodded, the lump in her throat too big to push words past.  They kissed again, and people around them cheered, and they laughed and waved and accepted the offered high fives as they headed for Lexa's car.  </p>
<p>"What about my car?" Clarke asked.  </p>
<p>"Forget it," Lexa said.  "I'll drive you tomorrow."</p>
<p>"I'm at the clinic tomorrow," Clarke reminded her.  </p>
<p>"Ugh, <i>fine</i>," Lexa said.  "I'll meet you at home?"  </p>
<p>"I'll be there before you know it," Clarke said.</p>
<hr/>
<p>They made good use of the hours between leaving class and going to pick up Madi, which were both infinite and over in a blink, and Lexa pulled into a space and went to the front of the school to wait for her daughter to emerge.  As soon as she appeared, Lexa's eyes unexpectedly filled with tears, and when Madi saw her she skidded to a stop.  </p>
<p>"What's wrong, Mama?" she asked, her eyes wide.  "Did the bad guys win?"</p>
<p>Lexa shook her head, pulling her into a hug, then lifted her right off her feet and spun her around.  "No, Madi-bug.  The bad guys didn't win.  Not this time."  </p>
<p>They hadn't gotten everything they wanted – far too many people had voted for hate, plain and simple – but it was something.  It was a start.</p>
<p>"Then why are you crying?" Madi asked.  </p>
<p>
  <i>Because I feel like I can breathe for the first time in four years.  Because now we can start to build a world we won't be ashamed for you to inherit.  Because there's a chance now that our marriage won't be erased, our family invalidated.  Because maybe now you'll be able to grow up knowing you can be anyone, do anything, you set your mind and heart to.  Because finally, <b>finally</b> we have a light at the end of the tunnel.</i>
</p>
<p>"Because I'm happy," Lexa said.  </p>
<p>"Me too," Madi said, wrapping her arms around Lexa's neck and squeezing.  </p>
<p>Lexa held her a little longer before finally setting her on her feet, taking her hand to lead her to the car.  "Let's go get Mom," she said.  "And then call the rest of the Ohana."</p>
<p>Tonight, they would celebrate.  Because hope was defiant and joy a revolutionary act.  </p>
<p>Tomorrow, the real work began.</p>
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